


The Girl who knew

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was Mercy who heard the news. The Lord Commander killed by his men.It was Arya Stark who sailed west to avenge him.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	The Girl who knew

She was by the docks when she heard the news. The news that hurt her so deeply she felt like she was watching her father's execution once more.

_"Oysters, Clams and Cockles!"_

_"Fuck off girl." Growled the sailor and she glared at him before continuing on her way._

_"Did you hear about what happened to that Lord Commander person?"_

_"Stabbed he was. His own men gutted 'im like a pig."_

_"Heard it took a dozen knives to bring him down."_

_"I'm not surprised. Hard places breed hard men, and the Wall is one of the hardest places in the world."_

Lord Commander. Wall. Betrayal. Jon. Dead.

Arya Stark cried until her eyes were dry and the Narrow Sea was overflowing.

* * *

The ship was headed for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to bring supplies to the Night's Watch from the Iron Bank. Jon had apparently made some deal with them before he...died. Was murdered by the men he trusted.

It filled Arya with a burning rage to think of Jon being murdered by his men. Men who chose him to lead. Then they betrayed him? She would show them the price of betrayal.

_Stick em with the pointy end._

The words rang through her mind as she looked at Needle, which she had recovered before sneaking aboard the Iron Bank ship.

It hurt to look at Needle. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. The smile he had when he mussed her hair and called her little sister. 

When she remembered Jon Snow would never call her that again she cried until she was almost caught by the captain of the ship.

* * *

Arya did not know how she realised it nor could she remember when but Arya knew it to be true.

She was in love with Jon Snow. And not in a sisterly way.

The only other outsider at Winterfell. The person who was always there for her when she needed him. The person who gave her the greatest gift and possession she ever (and would ever) have. The person who wiped away her tears when she cried after Jeyne and Sansa's name-calling and bullying. The person who wrapped his arm around her and called her the prettiest lady in all of Winterfell and beyond. The person who had won he heart long ago.

It broke her to know she would never be able to tell him. To say "I love you" and kiss him on his pouty lips.

The rage built within her again and she gripped Needle tightly as the ship neared Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.

* * *

The wind stung her face as she galloped past the ruins of another long forgotten and neglected fort that sat at the base of the Wall. 

It had taken her a good moment to recover from seeing the Wall for the first time but recover she had and Arya had stolen a horse at the dead of night and had stopped only once to rest her horse at one of the ruined forts. 

It was good to be in the North again, the cold air refreshing as the bitter wind stung her skin. She missed the North and its cooler weather. The warmth of Bravos was certainly agreeable to her yet I was and always would be foreign to the daughter of Ned Stark, a northwoman. 

She missed Winterfell. Her father. Her mother. He siblings. She missed Gage's pies. Jory Cassel's laughter and Rodrik Cassel's belly laugh. She missed Nymeria and hoped her Direwolf was alive and well.

She missed Jon Snow the most.

* * *

"Open the gate!" She snarled at the guardsman, who was taken aback at her tone and sudden appearance.

"Do you know where the fuck you are? This is Castle Black. The only woman we allow here are whores from Mole Town." The guardsman jeered, a lustful look on his face as he leered down at her.

"I don't give a flying fuck about Mole Town whores!" Arya growled angrily. "I'm here to avenge my brother!"

"Really now? And who would your brother be then eh? We have a lot of death up here so you'll have to be specific." The man replied, seemingly bored.

"Jon Snow. Heard of him?" Arya snarled and the man's eyes bulged open.

"OPEN THE BLOODY GATE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" The man roared and the gate to Castle Black creaked open.

Arya stormed through, not waiting for them to fully open, glaring at everyone who gaped at her, hand grilling Needle's hilt tightly. A tall ginger man in furs gaped at her as if he had seen a ghost and Arya strode last him until she stood in the main courtyard, hundreds of Brothers of the Night's Watch gaping at her.

"WHO MURDERED JON SNOW?" She demanded furiously, glaring at the brothers who looked at her like she was a Other.

"Arya?" Rasped a voice from above her and Arya turned to see pair of familar steel grey eyes.

He had scars now, a fresh one on the right side if his face, and an old one that looked like scratches on his left just above his eye.

His face looked older and wearier and his eyes were swimming with emotion as he looked at her like she was a ghost.

"Jon?" She gasped, tears welling and voice choking with sheer joy and elation. He was alive! Her Jon was alive!

Then she was moving and he was moving. Their bodies slammed together at the bottom of the stairs he had raced down and they laughed and cried and she relished the feeling of finally being with her Jon once more.

* * *

They shared stories over ale and soup. She told him about escaping King's Landing, being on the road with Yoren and then Harrenhal.

He told her about wanting to go South to help Robb and save her and Sansa but being oath bound to the Night's Watch, the he told her about the Great Ranging and Ygritte. Her heart cracked a little to know he had loved another and she felt guilty at the relief she felt when he told her about Ygritte's death.

Jon looked at her, his grey eyes warm and shining with tears.

"I've missed you little sister." He said softly and Arya beamed at him.

"I missed you too big brother." She replied and his lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

"But not more?" He asked and she laughed and punched his arm.

"Stupid." She giggled, suddenly finding herself staring into Jon's grey eyes, soft as fog and filles with love. Her gaze flickered to his lips, plump and pouty, before returning back to his heavy gaze, his eyes now heated by something she could not yet put a name on. 

She leaned towards him, just a little, allowing him to make the next move.

He leaned towards her never breaking eye contact with her as his lips came near hers and then...

BANG!

The door slammed open and she stood up, holding Needle defensively whilst Jon held his Longclaw, ready to fight the intruder if they were an enemy.

It was Sansa.

* * *

Jon had embraced Sansa almost as hard as e had embraced her. Jealously flared inside her for a moment before Arya saw the haggard, haunted look on Sansa's tired face.

She had not forgiven Sansa for betraying their father, but she had clearly suffered since they last met so Arya gave her the benefit of the doubt for the moment.

And she sat with them by the fire with her own bowl of soup, laughed with them when they laughed at her choke on her ale and Arya had listened as she told her story, using her training to detect lies. 

She couldn't detect any, however she didn't rule out the fact Sansa simply skipped over some things she did not want to tell them, things like her betraying father.

But the pain in Sansa's eyes and voice as she spoke about her wedding night and the nights after made Arya give her the benefit of the doubt once more.

But then she went to work trying to convince Jon to retake Winterfell. Something seemed off about her then and although Arya had said nothing during the back and forth between Jon and Sansa, she made a mental note to keep a close eye on Sansa.

* * *

The Northmen had rallied around the last surviving children of Eddard Stark. Jon had decided not to involve the Free Folk, worried it might cause dissent amongst the ranks, though he allowed any volunteer to march south with him. 

And so Arya had marched alongside Jon (after much convincing on her behalf to let him take her south) with one thousand Free Folk, a giant and a giant white direwolf.

Ghost had taken to following Arya around camp, a silent and ever present protector, and for once Arya did not mind. Ghost made her think of Jon and Nymeria and he was a goofball and made her laugh sometimes.

They had set camp at Crofter's Village, where the Mountain Clans, Manderly's, Glover's, Hornwood's, Mazin's and Forrester's had all gathered and sworn fealty to her.

Sansa was a Bolton and a Lannister. Jon had Stark blood but not the name. She was the true heir to Winterfell to them and it was for her they fought for.

The Bolton army numbered some six thousand men, their numbers weakened by Stannis' ill fated attempt to take Winterfell. Arya hoped that her army would not meet the same fate.

The battle began with Rickon's death. Arya's training allowed her to just barely keep a level head, though every fibre of her screamed to kill the Bolton Bastard. 

Jon didn't have the same training, charging the entire Bolton army alone, fuelled by his rage, forcing her to send her forces after him.

The battle was bloody and she and Jon fought side by side. Jon hacked and slashed with agility and stamina. Arya poked her enemies full of holes with grace and elegance. 

Then the wolves arrive. Nymeria charged sidee by side with Ghost and follows by a pack of hundreds of wolves. They tore through the Bolton's and Ramsay Snow died being eaten by Nymeria and Ghost.

When the dust settled, Arya and Jon stood standing, alone and surrounded by corpses and feeding wolves. They were caked in blood and gore and when their eyes met they leaned in. Sansa didn't stop them this time.

They kissed, their tongues battling for dominance. Arya let Jon win, letting him plunder and taste her mouth. She moaned and bite his bottom lip. She growled and then she pushed him down, tripling him with a leg behind his. 

She straddled him as they tugged off their leather and fur, hidden by wolves and bodies. His hardness brushed against her sex and when he entered her she cried out. She rode him like a stallion, ignoring her pain and relentlessly pursuing her pleasure. Jon moaned and writhed beneath her, chanting her name like a prayer, his eyes shut and his mouth hanging open in an expression of pure bliss. She felt her climax nearing and she cried his name as he spilled inside her and pushed her over the edge into and expolosion of pleasure.

She laid on top of him afterwards, blood and Jon's seed trickling down her thighs. She did not care about the politics to come. She did not care about the Army of the Dead Jon ranted about or the Lannister's to the south Sansa ranted about.

She laid on top of Jon and revelled in the feeling of being home.


End file.
